


Wolfe Dailey

by RebaK1tten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Peter does porn, Stalking, Stiles is totally inappropriate, hand job (kind of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 00:21:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9148525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: Stiles finds out that Peter does porn movies. And he becomes a little obsessed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This started because I wanted to read this and ended up thinking about it too much so wrote it. But if anyone else wants to write it, I'm ready to read more. 
> 
> Oh and Stiles ended up a lot more stalkery than intended. Very bad behavior, do not copy.
> 
> Finally, I know jack shit about cyber-stalking or if anything I've said they're doing can be done. But hey, it's a fic, just go with it.

Derek stomps into the house with Cora so close behind him, he can’t slam the door.  She’s laughing as she pulls Stiles in behind her saying, “Oh, come on, Der, it’s funny. Just admit it.”

He just snorts and goes into the kitchen without acknowledging anyone in the living room, while Cora and Stiles tumble over themselves as they continue to laugh.

“What happened, why is Derek so pissed? Or pissed again? Or pissed still, I’m never sure,” Erica asks, leaning off the couch to look at their angry alpha.

“We were at a bookstore in the mall, and this guy… this guy came up…” Cora starts and ends up falling on the couch, holding her stomach as she laughs.

Stiles jumps in and tries to continue the story. “We’re in the bookstore and this guy comes up to Derek and starts talking to him and he’s acting really weird and kind of shy and stuff and finally he asks…”

“He thought Derek does porn! Can you imagine? Derek? Derek a porn star?” Cora shouts, slapping Erica’s arm as she sits next to her on the couch.

“Did he think you’re Dale Cooper? In Beacon Hills?” Peter asks. He’s sitting at the kitchen counter, laptop open in front of him. He types for a second and holds out a picture showing the head and shoulders of a dark haired man. “Actually, from some angles, it’s alarming how much he resembles Derek.”

“He does kind of look like Derek,” Cora says, moving closer to Peter and looking over his shoulder as he pulls up some other, more explicit photos.

“And he’s done some videos with a guy who kind of resembles Stiles,” Erica offers, without getting off the couch. “You know, if you kind of squint.”

“No, no, just stop it,” Derek orders, reaching over Peter’s other shoulder to shut his laptop. “It wasn’t funny, it was… it was just weird. And uncomfortable.”

Peter glares at him, eyes flashing blue as he reopens the laptop. “Don’t worry, Derek, I’ve heard that Mr. Cooper is actually very pleasant, and funny and personable. It’s unlikely anyone would mistake you for him after they talk with you for any amount of time.”

“How do you know all this?” Stiles asks, leaning over his shoulder to check what he’s looking at and getting an eyeful of rimming.

Peter just raises an eyebrow and smirks, “I thought it had been established that I’m the smartest one in the room.”

“Only when Lydia’s not here,” Cora says, reaching over to page through a few websites. “And, Derek, it looks like Dale has a few tattoos, so if someone thinks you’re him, just take off your shirt.”

“Yeah, great idea, Cora – he can prove he’s not a porn star by stripping.” Stiles backs away slowly and picks up his bag, heading for the door. “Today was fun, but I gotta go, got a Skype date with Scotty tonight. I’ll give him your love.”

“Sure, whatever,” Cora says, flopping back down next to Erica. “Let’s watch a movie.”

Erica grabs the remote and says, “I’ll find some good boy-on-boy action for us.”

“I hate you all, you are all bad betas,” Derek says and goes upstairs to his room, slamming that door.

 

After getting all the vet school updates from Scott (which are kind of gross, to be honest), Stiles is too keyed up to go right to sleep. And besides, he really should study the internet and make sure Derek hasn’t started a side job.

Stiles is as familiar with online porn as any healthy, bisexual 20 year old with the internet is. He has a few sites he goes to, ones that are free, full of hot guys and won’t infect his laptop with the equivalent of the Ebola virus. Free is important, because he’s in college and there’s expenses. His father got him a credit card with dollar maximum put on it and updated each semester. It’s supposed to be for miscellaneous expenses like unexpected books he might need or maybe clothes or some food – food’s good, he’s a fan of eating and the card comes in handy when he can’t mooch or sneak into the dining hall for a meal. There’s only so much ramen a person can eat.

So he starts his search, determined to find out more and also maybe expand his horizons without killing his laptop or budget.

Click click click. And there’s Dale, lots of pictures and some links to videos or parts of videos.  He watches a few and yeah, the guy does resemble Derek, at least in some of them.

And there’s lots more sites, many that Stiles hasn’t seen. But he’s not there to see all the sites (necessarily) and you know the thing with the viruses and stuff…

               Click

                              Click

                                             Click

Here’s a site that has twinks.  Not really his thing, but he looks at a few just be sure. And to be sure he’s not a twink.  He likes to think that maybe he has a few more muscles than these twinks do.

More clicking and okay, this has big black men, and that’s the name of the site and as promised, oh my god. Big men with big cocks. Do they ever get light headed when all the blood rushes to their dicks? This site proves that sometimes legends are true and he’s got a lot more respect for Erica now if this is indicative of Boyd. Although he’ll never ask because either Boyd or Erica would certainly kill him.

 

Click

Click

Click

 

Spanking.  He’s never really thought about it before, not one way or the other. Your kink is not my kink and that’s okay, but actually, this is more interesting than he thought it would be. This one has a guy leaning against a couch and another very handsome, slightly older guy is spanking him and hmm, Little Stiles doesn’t seem to hate it. Huh, spanking, who knew?

 

Little Stiles is starting to feel crowded, so big Stiles strips off his pants and boxers. And grabs a towel from this morning’s shower that never made it to the hamper spreading it on his chair to sit on because ew, bare butt shouldn’t be on the desk chair, that’s just not right.

A couple more clicks and he’s on a site advertised as slightly older men. And that’s not bad, no not at all. Some twinks, but some guys around his age (because Stiles is certainly _not_ a twink) with the advertised slightly older men. Really built older men with great biceps and abs and really nice dicks. Some have a little bit of gray hair and crinkles around their eyes when they laugh and they look pretty happy. Well of course this guy should be happy, he has another guy attached to his cock, holding him close by the hair and who wouldn’t be happy? Stiles might like to be the guy grabbed by the hair and the older guy looks like he’s getting close and…

Shit, this is one of the sites with parts of videos and they almost never have the grand finale. He clicks and watches a few more and yeah, so apparently a little older is definitely his thing. He’s not even going to pretend to be shocked. He takes himself in hand and clicks on another video; this one is 8 minutes and by now, Stiles knows that’ll be long enough to do the deed.

And then the video starts and Stiles starts and watches and Oh. My. God.

That’s not just any older man, not some anonymous porn guy. That’s Peter Fucking Hale. As in literally Peter fucking Hale because he’s in this porn vid and he’s on a bed fucking this younger, dark haired guy from behind and that’s a close up of Peter’s dick going into some guy’s ass. Stiles leans forward watching the video and yes, that’s Peter the zombie Hale’s hard dick and he might not be impressive to Erica at this point, but it’s pretty impressive to Stiles.

And oh yeah, his hand seems perfectly fine watching Peter slam into this guy and give him a reach-around, which is only courteous. Stiles has seen Peter naked, at least from the back and maybe because he tried to see, he got a bit of a side view. It happens with wolves, they don’t have little werewolf undies that their tails can stick out of when they shift back and forth. So yeah, he’s seen Peter’s ass and now he’s seeing Peter’s cock and it’s in action and it’s a really nice dick. And he’s pretty built; Stiles always knew that with the shoulders and the neck and the shoulders.

Then Peter’s voice comes out of the laptop through the headset wires and into his ear and it’s as smooth and buttery as ever and Peter says, “Can you be a good boy and not come until I tell you to?” and then he pulls out enough to slap the other guy’s ass. And the guy wails and Stiles wails and game over. At least everyone got to finish.

 

By the time he’s done with his research several hours later, he’s learned several things. Peter’s done twelve videos total and if he wasn’t watching for research, he’d say they’re hot. And they’ve gotten pretty good reviews. Along with saying he’s hot, people think he’s funny. And cute. And nice. Peter Fucking Hale is nice. Okay, he’s nice enough to his partners in the videos, he doesn’t say mean thing and he hasn’t bitten anyone or ripped their hearts out, but nice? Nice looking and nice dick, but nice?

Oh, and he’s such a douchebag, his porn name is Wolfe Dailey. Really? Could you be more obvious or more of a douchebag? Wolfe Dailey. Fucking Peter Hale.

He’s learned he can come three times before his dick starts to feel a little chafed and his hand is kind of crampy. And he’s going to have to do a load of laundry.

And he also found out that he can use his debit card and download the full videos, because it’s research and important and… And Scott’s his best friend and won’t let him starve.

 

“Thanks for doing this, Danny, you don’t know how important this is.”

Danny gives him a glance and goes back to his laptop. “You don’t need to thank me, just pay me. Like we discussed, remember?”

“Sure, absolutely,” Stiles answers. “You’ll be able to confirm where he was and when and all that?”

“If he used his phone, I should be able to give you at least his locations.” He keys for a bit and then says, “So remind me – this is the guy who was psycho and then killed a bunch of people? And you think it’s a good idea to track his whereabouts and read his emails through his phone?”

“Well yeah. I mean that was before, he’s better now.” Stiles scratches his head and looks at the screen. “Better, but still not good, which is why I need to keep track of him.”

Danny stops keying and looks at Stiles. “Scott knows about this?” 

“Not exactly, but he doesn’t need to know specifics. He’s the big picture guy because he has people like me – and you – handling the details,” Stiles says, with an earnest look on his face.

“Hmm. Sounds like more Stilinski bullshit to me,” Danny says and goes back to work. “But fifty bucks is fifty bucks.”

“Yup,” Stiles says, nodding again. “So how long does this take, should I come back?”

Danny snorts and says, “It’ll take me about five minutes.”

“Damn, really? And you get fifty bucks each time we ask you to do this?”

“No.” Danny shakes his head and turns to Stiles. “I do it for Scott for twenty. I do it for Lydia for free. You get the special rate.”

“Thanks and I know why you’re Jackson’s best friend. So what are we waiting for?”

“I’m thinking… You know that saying ‘Give a man a fish, he eats today; teach him to fish, he eats forever’?”

“Sure,” Stiles nods and then leans forward, glee on his face. “You’re going to teach me to fish? To do this, I mean?”

“Well, it’s more like ‘get paid to teach a man to fish.’ Make it a hundred and I’ll show you what to do; I’ll even write it down for you,” Danny answers, pulling a pad of paper over to him. “Work for you?”

He nods repeatedly like a bobble-head and says, “Can you let me owe you a little bit?  I can give you…” he digs in his pocket, pulling out a wallet and says, “I have eighty. Can you let me owe you twenty?”

Danny just sighs. “Yeah, okay. Watch and learn.”

It’s just a few minutes before they have Peter’s phone history, complete with his phone numbers called, emails and texts.

“Wow. That’s a lot, that’s great stuff, thanks,” Stiles says, looking at information as Danny pages through items. “And it’s that easy?”

“When you have a good teacher. And we’ve left a tracker on it, so you can get reports on where he’s traveling,” Danny says, writing a few more notes. He pushes the paper over and says, “Think you can follow this?”

Stiles reads the paper again, whispering the instructions out loud as he does. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I got it. Can I call you if I get stuck?”

Danny seems to consider it and finally nods. “Okay, you get one free consult. After that, I don’t want to be involved in your werewolf games.”

 

Stiles takes the information and studies it, trying to decode its mysteries.

Peter doesn’t text very much, which isn’t a surprise. Mainly Cora, sometimes Derek and strangely enough his third most popular contact is Stiles. He hadn’t realized that -- Peter’s texts seem to be infrequent, mixed in with everyone else’s. News about possible threats, information on new books and things to study, and occasional snarky comments about pack meetings.

There’s a couple of contacts in Los Angeles, just first names and phone numbers. One person does have an email address, something with ‘productions’ in the address, so that must be his work contact. But the emails are all deleted, there’s just the contact name.

He doesn’t have a lot of email contacts either, fewer than a dozen, actually. Stiles reads through them, trying to see if any look like they could be from his videos, but other than the production one, they look personal.

“Crazy paranoid bastard,” Stiles mutters, looking at his empty email box, with all the deleted emails cleared out. Maybe with his laptop Stiles could get something, but not on the phone. Of course, he thinks, Peter should be paranoid; after all, someone is looking through his online information.

The interesting thing is his calendar. Peter’s calendar is very detailed, he includes all his meetings, including pack meetings, which are just marked “Derek” but Stiles remembers the most recent ones. 

And the jackpot, his trips to L.A. are all there. 

He seems to go every three or four months and has been for the last two years. It’s difficult to say that each of these visits are for filming a video, but based on his contact information, it doesn’t look like he’s going to visit friends.

Stiles opens his calendar and tries to track Peter’s travels with anything he can find pack-related. Or track it to anything at all.  Again, there’s not a lot there, just information on his flights and hotels. He keeps all that, adding it to the log he’s created on his laptop. Which, when he thinks about it, could be considered creepy, but Stiles prefers to think he’s reviewing this to protect the pack. From something, even though he can’t really say what. Which, yeah, might be getting into Peter levels of creepy, but he pushes that thought from his mind.

 

The next pack meeting is awkward, at least for Stiles. He tries not to look at Peter, but he doesn’t want it to be obvious that he’s _not_ looking at Peter, so he tries to look at him a little. Hopefully he’s looking just enough, although when the meeting is done, he does get some strange looks. Which, to be honest, could be normal and he’s used to ignoring it.

Later that night, Scott appears at his window and lets himself in.

“Hey, Scott, still not willing to use the door?” Stiles asks, quickly shutting some windows on his laptop where he might be looking at some videos and maybe some star Wolfe.

Scott shrugs and says, “Habit. Anyway, I knew you were up here and why make you run downstairs to let me in?”

“What a thoughtful werewolf you are. So what’s going on?”

“Just wanted to check on you. Make sure you’re okay.” Scott sits on the bed, shoving pillows behind him, getting comfortable in the familiar room. “You were acting kind of weird tonight.”

“Weird? Me? I wasn’t weird, there was nothing weird about me, I was normal,” Stiles asserts, leaning back in the desk chair.

“Well… maybe your normal was a little weirder than normal tonight. Even Peter noticed it,” Scott answers.

Stiles sits up, studying Scott. “Peter? What did Peter say?”

“I guess he noticed how you were looking at him and after you left he asked if he’d done something to annoy you. Did he? ‘Cause you know, I’ll kick his ass if he did anything,” Scott says, flashing his bright gold eyes at Stiles.

“No, he didn’t do anything, I mean not that I know of. I don’t know everything he does, so actually he may have done something. Not to me, but, you know…to someone.” He checks his laptop again, and clicks on his desktop, showing a nice picture of him and Scott in their lacrosse uniforms, back when they were freshmen. A million years ago when things were easy and there were no werewolves doing porn.

Scott looks at him and finally says, “Okay.”

“Okay? That’s it?” Stiles asks, wondering what the catch is. Scott doesn’t give up easily.

He shrugs and says, “Okay is okay. You said he didn’t do anything to you and you don’t know that he’s done anything to anyone else. And you said that nothing’s wrong. Maybe you’re just jumpy today or something. Did you take your meds?”

Stiles exhales quietly, wondering if Scott is really going to drop it. Probably not, it’s Scott.

“I guess the other thing is that you kind of… well, I know you hate it when we say anything, but you kind of had a little smell of…”

“Dude! You were smelling me again? Yeah, I do hate that!” Stiles shakes his head and throws a crumbled up piece of paper at Scott, who catches it easily.

“No one wanted to, believe me. But you smell really…horny? Or Derek says it’s lust and you haven’t smelled like that since high school! Are you seeing someone or do you have a crush on someone? We weren’t sure what was going on, except you were all weird and smelly and looking like you were pissed at Peter or something.” He stops talking and his jaw drops. “Do you like someone that Peter likes, is that the problem? Does Peter like people like that? I can’t picture it. Ew, I don’t want to!”

“Dude, no. I mean, I don’t think so. I’m just…” Stiles shakes his head and looks away. “Sorry if I was acting strange or whatever. I have been taking my meds and I guess I do have something on my mind. Sorry I was stinking up the place.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Scott asks, with his serious, best friend face on.

And Stiles wants to talk with him, but he’s not quite sure how or what to say. And it’s probably not important pack-wise, right? But Stiles wants to talk with him, he wants to talk with someone. “I’m just thinking maybe there’s something weird with Peter leaving as often as he does. Have you noticed? He leaves for about four days every few months. Do you know where he goes or what he does? What if he’s out hunting an alpha to kill?”

“Wow, I hadn’t noticed. I can ask Derek or maybe you can. Or maybe you can ask Peter, he talks to you. I mean, he probably hasn’t told Derek if he’s going anywhere or plotting something, but he might tell you,” Scott says.

“Me?” Stiles squeaks. “Why would he tell me?”

Scott snorts and raises an eyebrow. “Because you get along with him better than anyone else does. He likes you, Stiles. You’re like the only one he’s nice to.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or terrified,” Stiles answers, shoving Scott over so he lie down on the bed next to him.

“Both, I think.” He yawns and says, “I’m gonna take a nap. Consider yourself protected, okay?”

“Thanks, Bud,” Stiles answers. It’s not a bad time for a nap, next to a warm, friendly werewolf. He’s asleep before he think more about it.

 

Stiles keeps an eye on Peter’s information, disappointed at how dull everything is. He still barely gets emails and his few texts are from pack members. Then suddenly it changes. He gets an email from his contact in L.A. asking if he can come down for a job. They trade a couple of emails and it’s all very friendly and Peter’s calendar has flight information and hotel information and he’ll be gone for three days this time.

He finds himself outside Peter’s apartment the day before he’s supposed to leave. There’s no good reason for it, there’s really nothing to say. Peter’s allowed to do what he wants and actually this is a good thing for him. A hobby that doesn’t include killing anyone. Unless you count Stiles’ well being.

Stiles sits in his jeep, trying to decide what to do when suddenly the door’s ripped open and Peter pulls him out of his seat by the neck of his t-shirt.

“Look at you sitting here. Trying to figure out how else to invade my privacy?” Peter asks as he drags him towards the apartment door. “Come along, little spark, it’s about time we had a chat.”

Peter pushes/drags Stiles into his apartment and shoves him against the wall, with a snarl. “I don’t know what your game is or what you think you’re doing, so why don’t you enlighten me? What’s your interest in my comings and goings?”

Stiles tries to push Peter away, but he’s like a brick wall. “Someone has to keep track of you, make sure you’re not going on another killing spree!”

Peter growls low in his throat, and dammit, that apparently does something for Stiles, bringing back memories of a video where Peter/Wolfe was fucking a guy on the kitchen table. Stiles shuts his eyes and tries to think of anything else. His father. Scott. His grandmother.

When he opens his eyes, Peter’s looking at him with a grin that’s positively feral. “I swear a therapist could make a good living on you alone. Somehow your wires got severely crossed.”

“Shut up and move,” Stiles says, trying unsuccessfully to shove Peter off again. “What is it with Hales and shoving me into walls?”

Peter only moves closer, boxing Stiles in with his arms on either side of Stiles’ head. “Not until I know why you’re apparently tracking me. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Did you ever consider that I have a little bug myself that tells me if someone’s getting into my information?”

“Well that’s just a little paranoid, isn’t it?” Stiles asks, trying to look away from Peter, over his shoulder or anywhere else. Not his neck or thick shoulders or the bit of chest hair showing from the neck of his shirt.

The wolf sniffs and smiles, shaking his head. “Is it paranoid if I _am_ being spied on? And what were you hoping to find? And is it what makes you smell so very enticing?” Peter steps back, just a step, leaving his hands on the wall, keeping Stiles a very willing captive.

Stiles exhales a shaky breath and looks Peter in the eyes.  “I know about the videos. About your part-time job. About your douchey name, Wolfe.  And…and… how does this affect the pack? The safety of the pack? Are you drawing attention to yourself?” It sounds reasonable and now that he’s said it out loud, maybe it is a good question.

“Oh, that’s it? I knew you smelled different. You can’t even be in a room with me, without everyone knowing there’s something going on. And so you’re saying this is it? Your concern for the pack? Really, Stiles, is that the best you’ve got?” Peter leans in closer, rubbing his cheek against Stiles’ and then drops his face into the crook of his neck, sniffing and then biting gently. “Stiles, you saw that I go to Los Angeles and I use a fake name. I rarely do any type of publicity or the conventions. Unless you know me, you wouldn’t track it back to me. Care for the pack is always my first consideration.”

“I found you,” Stiles whispers, tilting his head, giving Peter more access. Which might be dumb, but right now he doesn’t really care.

“Yes, you certainly did.” Peter rests his forehead against Stiles’, chuckling as he moves his hands to the younger man’s hips. “And now what do you intend to do about it?”

“I don’t… I don’t know,” he answers. He follows Peter’s gaze between them to where his khakis aren’t quite so flat in the front anymore.

“Shall I let you go then? You know I’ll always give you a choice.”

“It’s never really been a choice,” Stiles replies and wraps his arms around the wolf’s shoulders as he pulls him in for a kiss.

Peter takes charge, which Stiles expected, having seen how he does in Stiles’ favorite videos. He licks into Stiles’ mouth, smiling as Stiles groans when he bites his lip. Peter pushes his hips against Stiles, grinding so their erections rub against each other.

“Peter. Peter, please…” Stiles mumbles into Peter’s neck.

Peter moves away, leaving Stiles panting alone against the wall. Then he’s grabbed by the front of his belt and Peter moves him so he’s sitting on the middle of the couch. Before Stiles can say anything else, Peter’s on his lap, straddling his legs and grinning. “You still with me here, Stiles? Do you want to leave?”

“Hell, no,” he answers and leans forward for another kiss.

They kiss again, but Peter keeps space between them, so they only touch with lips and tongues and the occasional nip of teeth. He reaches between them and drags his knuckles over Stiles’ cock.

“God, yes, do that again,” Stiles says, trying to reach down to undo his pants.

Peter takes his hands and puts them next to him on the couch. “Shhh, I’ve got you, let me,” he says, nipping up Stiles’ neck. He’s almost certainly leaving bruises, but Stiles will worry about that later. Peter goes back to dragging his fingers along Stiles’ cock, tracing it through his pants as Stiles tries to thrust upward for more contact. “Patience,” Peter whispers into Stiles’ ear, and then sucks on his ear lobe. “Patience, I’ve got you.”

Stiles melts against the couch, realizing that he’s not in control; he’s never been in control around Peter. “Please. Please,” he whines.

His hands trace Stiles’ cock through the two layers of clothes, gently squeezing his balls and then tracing the hard line to rub his cockhead, listening to the younger man’s gentle whimpers. “So beautiful, so lovely,” Peter whispers, dropping kisses along his neck and the side of Stiles’ mouth. “You can come, I know you can. I smell it on you all the time, so warm and spicy.”

The air fills with the smell of Stiles’ orgasm and he gasps, hips bucking as he grasps Peter’s hand.

Peter sits back, smile on his face, watching Stiles’ eyes open slowly as he pants.

“You’re evil, you’re still evil,” Stiles says, smiling. He looks at Peter, nodding at the outline of his cock, obvious and hard in his tight jeans. “Need help there?”

Peter stands and undoes his pants, shoving them down far enough to release his cock. He strokes it, hard, staring at Stiles who seems mesmerized by the display in front of him. Peter’s fingers gather some precome from the tip, using it to smooth his way. He only needs to pull it a few more times before he comes, aiming at Stiles’ chest, soaking his shirt.  Gathering the last bits off the tip, he flicks it on Stiles, then licks his fingers and tucks himself back in.

When Peter turns to walk away, Stiles reaches out and grabs him by the belt and pulls him next to him on the couch. Okay, he couldn’t do that if Peter didn’t let him, but still he’ll count it as a win.  “Well, that was either the most awesome thing ever or really kind of gross,” he says, looking down at his shirt, which sticks to his chest in places.

Peter snorts and says, “Or both. It could be both.”

“You know, this might not have been the most effective way to convince me not to cyber-stalk you,” Stiles says, looking over at Peter. He’s still feeling warm and fuzzy and a nap would be really good now.

“Hmm, perhaps not. You’ll stop doing that now, won’t you? The invading my privacy?” Peter pauses for a moment and asks, “How old are you? You are an adult, aren’t you?”

Stiles rolls his eyes and huffs out a sigh.  “Yes, nice of you to check now, by the way. I’m 20.”

“Good. I’m told that’s important for some reason.” He looks at Stiles, studying him. His lips are slightly swollen, and his neck and shoulders are covered with dark bruises. “As you know, I have a job to go to. And they mailed me a script – thankfully they don’t email it to me.”

“Okay,” Stiles says, because what else should he say?

“I could use some help with my lines, actually. Rehearsal, you know. Might you be interested?” Peter asks, grinning with just a bit of sharp teeth showing.

Stiles needs to think for only a couple of seconds before he says, “Anything to help the arts, Peter.”

 


End file.
